


Honey, I Shrunk the Washing

by SelenaTerna



Series: Prompt Fics [7]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humour, Non-explicit reference to nudity, Repressed attraction, Romance, Shrunken items, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 20:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12217911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaTerna/pseuds/SelenaTerna
Summary: The Doctor is not impressed when he finds one of his jumpers has shrunk in the wash.





	Honey, I Shrunk the Washing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goingtothetardis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/gifts).



> Hi lovelies! This silly bit of fluff was prompted by mountaingirlheidi from the 'domestic prompts' list on Tumblr. Heidi, it's probably not what you were expecting, or even what I was expecting, for that matter, but this is where the muse insisted we take it. I hope you like it it anyway.
> 
> Unbeta'd- all mistakes are mine. Multiple POV.

"Rose! What've I said about using the heat cycle for wool?" The Doctor held up the shrunken green jumper in outrage. "Now look at it!"

"I didn't!" Rose frowned, puzzled. "I put it on cold, like I always do. I dunno what happened."

The Doctor clutched the jumper to his chest moodily. "Well, it didn't change itself. This is a forty-third century Ariston III and washing machines can't do _that_ until the eighty-second century."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Well _I_ didn't change it. I used the same settin' we always use. _Maybe_ it's the washing machine that's had it. _Maybe_ , if you'd got that new one when I asked for it three weeks ago, this wouldn't've happened and maybe you wouldn't have a crop-top instead of a jumper."

He scowled and said nothing, still clutching the offending item to his chest.

She sighed. "Fine, you know what? You don't believe me, you can watch me put the next batch in right now." She marched out and came back moments later clutching a pile of clothes. Tossing them into the washing machine, she carefully measured the right amounts of soap and thirty-second century fabric softener and poured them into the drawer. That done, she carefully and exaggeratedly set the controls to cool wash and gestured to the Doctor to check.

He did so grudgingly, peering at the machine and grunting in agreement.

"Right, so you're happy with that? She raised her eyebrows in defiance at his superior smirk. "Good, then you can turn it on and that way you'll know for sure it was set to cool."

He rolled his eyes and jabbed the button.

"Right," Rose said, heading for the door. "Now you know whatever happens, 's not my fault. Oh, and Doctor? You're doing the washin' for the next two weeks."

"What for, then?" he asked indignantly.

"Because I just did two weeks' worth in a row," she called back down the corridor, stifling a grin.

"Bloody domestics," she heard the Doctor grumble behind her.

++++++

A few hours later, Rose stormed into the console room, seething.

"Rose, what's the- _blimey_!" The Doctor whipped his eyes back to the console, his face and the tips of his ears a dull red and burning hot. "You'd best put somethin' on if you don't want Jack walkin' in and oglin' you in your knickers."

He stifled the urge to growl at the thought of Jack seeing Rose like this, and chose not to examine that urge too closely. 

Rose glared. "See, that's the thing- I _am_ wearing somethin.' I'm wearin' what _used_ to be my favorite t-shirt and skirt."

The Doctor glanced cautiously at her from the corner of his eye before turning back to the console, his face still burning. It still baffled him that this pink and yellow human could affect him so strongly. He was supposed to be a cool, rational, superior  Time Lord and here he was, randy as an adolescent of sixty because an almost naked Rose Tyler stood before him.

He cleared his throat, trying to clear his mind of anything remotely related to Rose and nakedness. "That a skirt? Looks more like a belt to me. Can't see much of a shirt, either, me. "

"Yeah, that's the thing, Doctor. They were fine when I put 'em in and now look at 'em! Look at me!"

The Doctor gripped the console and tried very hard not to look.

"Well what you so angry at me for?" he muttered, staring intently at the temporal oscillator, wishing it could somehow control his suddenly rampaging hormones. "You set the washing machine."

Rose scowled, folding her arms which, to his torment, pushed certain _assets_ into prominence. Certain assets which were blessedly clothed in plain white silk, the Doctor gratefully noticed, because the shrunken T-shirt didn't cover much at all.

Not that he was looking.

"'M angry at you because I've been tellin' you for _weeks_ that this washin' machine is on the fritz, that we need a new one and you refused to listen, and now your clothes and mine are ruined because you're a stubborn prat!"

He frowned and, forgetting himself, looked up. "Oi! No need for name callin'."

She scowled. "Either you get a new machine, or you can get used to me walkin' around in this. All the time."

Moments later, he'd set the co-ordinates for the nearest electrical goods shop.

++++++

Two weeks later, both Rose and the Doctor were at the end of their tethers. Their fabulous new seventy-third century washing machine had settings for every possible situation imaginable (and some that weren't), could speak forty-thousand alien languages, sing both opera and reggae and play the harpsichord, but apparently it was also incapable of washing their clothes without shrinking them.

The Doctor had examined every inch of it, run the sonic over it four times and kicked it in frustrated defeat, while Rose had read the four-hundred page manual and tried every setting it had, but without fail, their clothes were returned smaller and smaller each time.

After a few embarrassing encounters (including a gleefully naked Jack popping into the laundry room to offer his unshrunken clothes to the both of them) it was decided (much to the Doctor's chagrin) that they would do the rest of their washing at Jackie's flat, until they'd managed to work out what was wrong with their machine.

Neither wanted to admit to the other that their ever-shrinking wardrobes were leading to some serious self-control difficulties.

Jackie found the whole business hilarious and cackled madly every time she spotted the Doctor which unsurprisingly did not improve his general disposition, and Rose got rather tired of running interference between her mum and the grumpy Time Lord. Thankfully Jack, seeing that she was starting to come apart at the edges, stepped in and offered to take Jackie for a salon day, and Rose dragged the Doctor down to the local for a pint while her mum's washing machine chugged merrily away.

++++

Unbeknownst to either Rose or the Doctor, Jack had left Jackie sitting happily in the manicurist's chair and snuck back to the flat.

Stopping the machine mid-cycle, he reset it to the hottest setting and tossed in some forty-fifth century shrinking powder to boot.

It _had_ to work this time, he muttered to himself. It just had to. Admittedly, his little plan had hit an unforeseen snag because both Rose and the Doctor had proved to have somewhat more self-control that he'd anticipated. Still, their control was wavering and he was confident that one more little nudge would do the trick.

He giggled, stroking the washing machine and remembering the Doctor's face when he'd seen Rose in her now minuscule pyjamas.

Oh, yes, it was going to work this time.

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr! I'm at countessselena.tumlr.com.


End file.
